‘Statues? Amphitheatre? Gornia, would that be the great lump of unfinished masonry our beloved Emperor is dumping on the south side of the Forum? Where Nero’s giant lake was? Where they need so much travertine cladding, they had to open a new marble quarry?’

‘That’s the beauty. Soon to be covered with statues,’ said Gornia, looking nonchalant. ‘They need thousands of the buggers, I believe.’

‘Thousands?’

‘Well, there will be three tiers of eighty arches, at least two tiers with some statuary in each arch.’ He seemed well informed on the building plans.

‘So “thousands” actually means a hundred and sixty? Two hundred and forty if they do the top tier?’

‘Big fellows! Plus the odd hero driving a quadriga, with a full rack of fiery steeds, to shove up over entrances.’

I slumped on a stone seat. Foreboding dropped on me like a smelly old blanket, but I leaned back with a nonchalant air. ‘Whisper to me what my cherished papa had to do with it?’

‘Well . . . you know him!’

‘Yes, I am afraid so.’

‘He tried anything.’

‘Tell me the worst.’

‘The old fool lined up to supply a few old stone toffs for the exterior.’

I had already learned that Gornia avoided discussing problems. He had handled Pa by keeping out of awkward chats. When he did comment it was wry, dry and plastered as floridly as a banker’s dining room with dangerous understatement. ‘How many stone toffs,’ I asked gently, ‘is “a few”?’

‘Not sure I know.’

‘I bet. Does my sister have figures?’

‘Oh, he didn’t want to involve Maia.’

‘Why not? Dodgy contract?’ With Pa, no contract at all was more usual. I had another thought. ‘Was this transaction off the books?’

‘Our books?’

‘No, the Treasury books. Don’t say this is a corrupt deal?’

Gornia looked disapproving. ‘He always said you were a prig, Marcus Didius!’

‘I don’t mess with the government; that’s why I’m still alive. Was Pa behind with the order or something?’ I remembered that his Rome warehouse had been significantly short of statues when I surveyed the stock.

‘He sent samples. We’d scraped the moss off the second-hand ones. The officials were happy.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

Gornia looked shifty. ‘Who mentioned a problem?’

‘You did, Gornia, by not coming clean. What’s up? Are we overdue on deliveries, or are we done?’

‘It’s our call. They pay by the piece, as and when. They’re just happy to get enough suitable figures. Anyone who can meet the specifications is in. The spec,’ Gornia added quickly, ‘is simple; there’s a height rule, that’s all.’

‘That will be for visual uniformity.’ I sounded like an interior designer. ‘I bet it’s surprisingly difficult to find ready-mades to fit the arches . . . We have stock?’

‘The old man collected a marble or two at the place on the coast, I believe.’

‘Be more specific?’